Re: Third Class ; Dining
He needed no further encouragement than those quietly spoken words, her desire coupled with his own, the requests for him to take her. His hands pressed at the hem of her shirt, pulling it further upwards even when her fingers abandoned him at the task. He found nothing else in the way of her skin, fingers gliding over warm skin, feeling, touching, memorizing the soft feel, the warmth beneath his hands. He buried his head once again towards her chest, breathing her in. His fingers delved lower, towards the core of her warmth and need, and when a finger slipped in, questing, exploring, he looked up towards her again, catching her mouth in a kiss.